Story #48

I'm 25, female, and very lost. I want to die so much all the time because it's been nothing but pain. The only thing that prevents me from it is how much I know it would hurt my dad. 

My mother hated me and viciously verbally abused me. In front of me she would tell my younger siblings not to end up like me, that I would never be loved and never be able to marry. She talked to them endlessly about sports and dates but me being non-athletic and not very social somehow made me less than everyone else. My father was wonderful and still is in many ways but after a while he gave up and just took her side.

For many years I emotionally shut myself off and couldn't even feel good things. Then when I was about 22(?) my roommate told me she wanted me to move out because she "needed to grow and live by herself." I am bisexual and  was very much in love with her even though she was straight and that night I had a "good cry" for the first time in over 10 years. 

Gradually my depression sank in. . . I would cry and be in something very cold and dark and lost and I know I don't really need to explain more because people with BPD know EXACTLY what I'm talking about. After I moved out my Borderline Personality that was perhaps lurking within me all this time began to shine. I'd get panic attacks if I thought anyone I loved was going to leave me. I still blame myself whenever someone goes away.. . .after my best friend and I graduated from college he joined the Army to pay off his student loans and I haven't heard from him since and of course, it's my fault. Like it was my fault Sarah wanted me to leave and has barely spoken to me since. Everyone leaves and I always feel so alone. 

The intense rage I don't have or at least I don't think I do .. . I've learned to cry but not to scream .. . my rage is so deep it scares the living hell out of me. I turned into a robot when I was about 12 so I just stood there while my mother hurled insults at me. . . I'd be like this sponge and had trained myself to not feel it getting wet. 

From 11-13 I was suicidal and had a serious binging disorder, I started smoking at 17 and playing with knives on my legs at 24. In college I went through a period where I didn't bathe and had to have my friend Stacey talk to me about it. Suicidal feelings always plague me and I do everything to prevent people from leaving me, even when it's not healthy for me to stay with them. I battle depression and panic constantly. 

I had to share this because I've been in back and forth denial of BPD for about a year and writing helps me accept it more. Hopefully some will be able to relate in the meantime take it one second, one minute, one hour at a time until you can take it a day at a time. And try to find someone with BPD to talk to. . . others have no idea and usually don't want to.